Page 56 of Don't Shoot Me Santa

“I’m fine.”

“Let me warm you.”

Before Aaron could argue, or smirk, or joke it away, Kenny unzipped his hoodie from behind, dragging it down, slow as molasses.

“The guidance says wrap up when you’re cold,” Aaron snapped before he could stop himself. “Save on the bloody electricity bill. And you love saving money, you stingy bastard.”

“Shh.” Kenny slipped his hand out from Aaron’s back pocket and peeled the hoodie from his shoulders. “Stop fighting me.”

Something in the way he said that made Aaron’s stomach flip. Instinctively, habitually, he shut up. And he let Kenny lift his T-shirt, warm fingers skimming down his sides, sliding over the ridges of his ribs, then drifting lower, right over that sensitive patch below his belly button that always made him tremble. Kenny stepped in closer, the heat of his chest pressing into Aaron’s back, and he kissed the nape of his neck.

“Better,” he purred into his ear, then reached around him to pop the button on Aaron’s jeans.

Aaron’s heart thumped as the zip came down with a lazy drag. The denim whispered down his thighs and puddled at his feet. Kenny knelt behind him, bare hands sliding over bare thighs, his mouth finding the dip of Aaron’s spine and a tremor rippled through Aaron like lightning under skin.

“Jesus…” He tipped his head back, closing his eyes. “I’m shivering, lover.”

“I know.” Kenny pulled down Aaron’s boxers then kissed the swell of each buttock, nipping with teeth. “I’ll warm you up soon enough.”

“You’re the worst fucking electric blanket I’ve ever had.”

“You’re not supposed to hump those.”

“Prick—” The insult fractured into a gasp as Kenny dragged his tongue in a wet stripe between his cheeks, then traced a path from tailbone to spine, up to the nape of his neck.

By the time Kenny rose to his full height, Aaron was trembling. Then the rustle of fabric, the clink of a belt unfastening, and the heavy press of Kenny’s cock, thick and hot, nestled against him, had him sucking in a sharp breath, whole body alight.

Kenny pressed warm lips to his ear. “Lie down.”

Aaron’s brain short-circuited. He was so hard he could barely think, pulse pounding in his throat, but Kenny wouldn’t touch him. He knew it. Instead, he guided Aaron down onto the rug beside the fire, then grabbed pillows from the sofa and arranged them behind their heads. Then he lay behind him, completely bare, chest to back, cock flush to the curve of Aaron’s arse, and it hit Aaron like a tidal wave: there’d be no fucking. No rolling. No frantic friction to chase release.

Kenny was going to hold him here. Suspend him.

Tease him to the brink and keep him there.

Aaron whimpered, torn between pleading and cursing. “Kenny…You’re gonna need to fucking touch me.”

Kenny curled his arm tighter around him, spreading his hand over Aaron’s chest. “Shhh,” he whispered into Aaron’s hair. “You don’t set the pace. I do. All you have to do is stay right here and feel what I give you.”

Fuck, Aaroncouldfeel it. Every second. Every breath. Kenny’s cock hot and hard, not pushing in, not giving anything. Torturing him with presence. He swallowed. Eyes burning and he trembled with the ache for more. He didn’t even know what anymore. Everything. Anything. Whatever Kenny would give him.Please.

But Kenny just held him in this blistering pause, letting the hunger spread like wildfire under Aaron’s skin. Aaron was unravelling inside it. How long could he wait like this? How much more could he take? What did he have to do? He’d beg. On his knees, arse in the air, with teeth bared if that’s what it took. He’d give Kenny everything.

“Breathe,” Kenny said as if reading Aaron’s thoughts. “Let it happen. Let me have this moment with you. The waiting. The ache. Let it stretch.”

Aaron let out a sound. Part sob, part growl. “Stretch?” He scoffed. “Yeah, I want you to fucking stretch me. Before I snap.”

Kenny chuckled. “Come here.”

He then guided Aaron with a control that didn’t ask, it claimed. He rolled him over, easing Aaron on top until he was straddling Kenny, bare thighs spread around Kenny’s hips, flushed cock pressed to his stomach, smearing slick heat across firm muscle.

Aaron moved before thought could catch him. Grinding down with a frantic rhythm, rutting against Kenny’s skin,biting his collarbone, chasing friction as if it might save him. But Kenny stopped him by clutching the nape of his neck, commanding and calm.

“No.” His voice cut through the haze, low and immovable. “Up.”

Aaron obeyed instantly, lifting onto his knees, chest rising and falling in wild stutters. Kenny lay beneath him, sinking into the pillows like a king on his throne, half-lidded eyes gleaming with indulgent cruelty. He skimmed his hands up Aaron’s trembling thighs, granting the illusion of control only to remind him who he belonged to.

Aaron reached for his cock, desperate to lead, to take even a scrap of relief. But Kenny clamped his hand around Aaron’s thigh. Firm. Final.